


White Hair and Sword Flashes

by This_Girl_Belongs



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bleach - Freeform, Diamond Dust Rebellion made me trash, I'm Sorry, M/M, Suggestive Themes, i was such a bad writer, is Toshiro OOC, not edited, sad Ichigo, sad Toshiro, so cute, still am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Girl_Belongs/pseuds/This_Girl_Belongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo remembers bits and pieces. Flashes and colors, faces he can't put names to to and names he can't put faces to. He remembers a lover, someone he misses painfully. But Ichigo can't remember who the lover was. He loves this person so much and it hurts to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Hair and Sword Flashes

**Author's Note:**

> i have been a huge fan of bleach since about March and it has all but consumed me. i also recently watched Diamond Dust Rebellion.i can totally see Ichigo comforting smol Toshiro. GAAH im trash. it'stechnicallynotcradlerobbingcauseToshiroisolder. is it weird to ship these two? i need answers people. anyways enjoy.   
> P.s I kept Ichigo's name the same to make it easier  
> -This_Girl_Belongs

 Ichigo jerked awake, his breathing labored and ragged. Sweat glistened on his bare shoulders, a dream just like the ones from his childhood. Ichigo shook his head and pressed his palms to his eyes. He pulled his hands away from his eyes and looked down nest to him. There laid a blonde haired bombshell of a woman, she slept heavily the blankets blankets barely covering her breast now that they pooled around Ichigo's naked waist. Ichigo brushed hair from her face and the intimate gesture made his stomach clench. This was not the person he should be doing this to, white hair flashed through his mind. 

He got up not bothering to cover himself as he walked to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He stared at the naturally bright orange hair on top of his head, the brown eyes that were so sad, and a face that had hundreds of even if he was only twenty-three. He remembered bests and swords and white hair. Bits and pieces. Ichigo shook himself out of his reprieve and went to dress himself.  
 

 He left his lover of the evening with a polite letter and the keys to the motel room the were using. Ichigo never stuck around for the morning of his one-night stands, although they were all usually lovely people. They weren't what he was looking for, just a distraction. 

Ichigo parked in the driveway of his house, the house, completely paid for and in Ichigo's name, was just a perk that came with a mostly selfish man his mother married. Ichigo did stop complaining as much but not because the house quieted him but because he was being pounded on by medical school. He didn't understand why, but he just felt like he needed to be a doctor. To help people was in his nature. 

Ichigo walked inside and locked the door behind him, kicking his shoes off before walking further in. He passed the living room and kitchen and went into his room at the end of the hallway with three other doors. As he entered he peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the side his jeans and socks following. He fell face first into the the bed centered in the  middle of the room.  

He curled into a ball as he was struck with the familiar feeling of loneliness and guilt, a cold stab in the gut and shortage of breath. He gasped and his heart ached for a lover he couldn't remember, the slender shoulders and hips of a pale, small frame, the smell of snow and the softness of white hair. Their name was on his lips but he couldn't say it, couldn't remember what he had to say. He just wanted to feel those fingertips brush his chest lovingly again. Ichigo wanted them pressed to his side and safe.  

Before long Ichigo was crying, sobs that made him shake, saliva kept his tongue attached to the roof of his mouth with thin strings, his silent cries of pain would've broken glass. He cried because he felt he was betraying his love, he was crying because he couldn't remember who they were, he was crying because he missed their touch, he was crying because he was frustrated. He gripped the orange hair on his head and rocked as he cried. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He cried, his sobs soon became blubbers; his body continued to tremble in the dim light the moon provided through a split in the curtains.  

This usually happened after every night he slept with a stranger, but the ache of loneliness was too much for Ichigo, and it had been this way since he was fifteen; he needed the few minutes of numbness he could get out of each night. The guilt came back tree fold, but he kept going back like it was a drug. 

"My love I'm sorry, I'm sorry, so fucking sorry." The same words every night, all the more pitiful and sad. Ichigo thought himself dirty and he still selfishly longed for the lover he couldn't remember. His cries became hiccups and sniffles as he drifted to sleep, dreaming of different worlds and beautiful teal eyes.  

 "Toshiro." The name of his lost lover left his lips as he dreamt and a smile full of love painted his face; he would never know how often he actually did say the name he could never remember. 

Toshiro watched the man sleep peacefully, his knees painfully digging into the hard wood floors and tears streamed down his face. It hurt every time, no matter how many times he watched. The man before him was a reincarnation of the Ichigo Kurosaki, the savior of the Soul Society who reshaped the rules and how everyone thought. This man who lived as captain of the 8th Division for a hundred and thirty-seven years and lover to Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya of the 10th Division was now just a normal human again. Though his spirit pressure hadn't changed, just more tamed, sooner or later he would see his Ichigo with his full power blazing.  

Toshiro stood and walked forward towards the bed. He brushed the orange hair out of the young ones eyes, he bent low and kissed gently the forehead and then the lips he had kissed so many times in Ichigo's past life and in this one while he slept, fitfully or not. Sometimes Toshiro would give into temptation and curl his mostly small frame to Ichigo's side. Those nights Toshiro would go back late the next morning, nobody would as questions, and Ichigo would wake up happier. 

This evening was different, something was off about Ichigo. He gasped when Toshiro kissed his lips, Toshiro pulled back but Ichigo leaned closer. Toshiro knew Ichigo could still feel spirt energy and see spirits and such but he shouldn't have been able to feel the the kiss. Toshiro frowned, but kissed his lips again, Ichigo kissed back. It was gentle; Ichigo cherished Toshiro's lips like he had before. Toshiro hadn't been kissed back by his lover since before ha had died. Toshiro sobbed in into the kiss, pushing harder getting the most out of it as he could, but Ichigo was still asleep so not much happened.  

Toshiro removed his shoes and curled next to Ichigo and continued to lazily worship Ichigo's lips, his chest with the fingertips Ichigo dreamed about,Toshiro wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corner of Ichigo's eyes. Toshiro kissed and told him he was perfect and beautiful. He told the sleeping Ichigo he had done nothing wrong, he told him he was silly for crying over Toshiro. Drowsiness overcame Toshiro and he fell asleep with his forehead touching Ichigo's. 

                                                                                    *** 

Ichigo woke up to birds chirping and a slight tingle in his lips, with eyes still shut he felt how swollen they were. He frowned, and opened his eyes. What he saw should've startled him, but he smiled. He grinned so wide his face hurt. It was the one he had dreamed about! It was his lover.  

 "Toshiro." he breathed. The name finally slipped off his tongue. The name he missed saying so much, the name he had called out during passionate nights. He said the name and remembered everything. Ichigo ran a hand through the white hair and wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. "Toshiro." 

That morning Ichigo turned off his alarm and texted his professor that he would be late of he might not be in today. The rest of the morning Ichigo held and caressed and kissed the sleeping Toshiro next to him.  

"Toshiro." Ichigo whispered. "Toshiro, my love, my beautiful, white haired lover. Toshiro I can see you."

Toshiro's eyes flashed open and immediately met with the warm brown ones towering easily over him. Ichigo was smiling, and looking AT him. Ichigo was smiling, Ichigo was so happy. Why was Ichigo so happy? 

"Ichigo?" Toshiro asked his voice quiet and rough.  

"Hi Toshiro." Ichigo smiled wider. 

"Ichigo..." Toshiro grinned and tears started to form. Toshiro buried his head in  Ichigo's chest. Toshiro sobbed and gripped Ichigo's shirt. Ichigo held him firmly in his strong arms, silently crying along. 


End file.
